Future
by kaiserklee
Summary: They had warred for a decade, their soldiers silence and suspicion, and the ghosts haunted those meters of dead space between them. (Anna and Elsa need to rediscover what it means to be family, because years of separation isn't so easily forgotten. Nor should it be.) Post-Frozen, collection of drabbles in a possible Frozen 2 universe.


**Resume**

* * *

It was awkward.

Anna never expected that things between her and Elsa would instantly revert back to the way they were, but—no, that was _exactly_ what she had expected. She knew the truth now. She knew _everything_ now. She knew the reason behind Elsa so suddenly shutting herself in her room, the reason behind Elsa abandoning her, the reason behind the bitter vacuum Elsa had left in her life. That was how Anna had thought before. She had tried not to be resentful, but how could she not be? She had been five years old, and Elsa had been—everything. She had been a child who only knew that her older sister, her hero and role model and best friend, suddenly refused to see her, to speak to her, to even acknowledge her existence. When their parents died and Elsa refused to come to the funeral, Anna had knocked on her door to receive only silence in return. She had raged, that time. She had returned to her room and destroyed nearly everything in it, and she had sworn she would never again try to reach out to Elsa.

Obviously that hadn't lasted long. Her rage tore from her throat and her fists and exhausted itself against the walls, died down into a flickering flame, and the reality that Elsa was her only family fell damp on the smoldering coals. Even if Elsa discarded her, Anna thought, she would never do the same.

But Anna knew better now. Elsa had never abandoned her at all. Anna was now an adult who could understand the reasons for what had happened, so things could return to how they had been. Anna thought and hoped they could be best friends again.

That wasn't what happened. They had been reunited after narrowly escaping a catastrophe at Hans' hands, all truths had been revealed, and that should have been the start of happily ever after for them; but that hadn't happened. There had been a momentary shock of pure joy. Elsa had hugged her, _actually hugged her,_ for the first time in thirteen years. Anna had never been so happy in years. Elsa was _warm_. She might have been the queen of ice and snow, but she was warm just like she had been _._

Then Elsa had let go, and Anna didn't dare to reach out again.

Adrenaline and the fear of coming so close to losing each other had kept them close for the next few hours, the next few days, even. Physically close. Elsa kept a vice grip on her hand and routinely stopped short in her sentences to look at it, and Anna knew that she was checking for ice creeping up her fingers. No amount of adrenaline could last forever or force them to have the conversations they should have had. There was only a hallway of some meters between their bedrooms but it was an untraversable chasm; the distance may as well have been a thousand miles.

They had warred for a decade, their soldiers silence and suspicion, and the ghosts haunted those meters of dead space between them.

* * *

"You know," Anna said one morning over breakfast, hoping to bridge the gap, "I was wondering if you could play the piano for me."

That had been one of Elsa's favorite pastimes.

"I…don't play anymore." Elsa looked away before Anna could make herself stop frowning. "Sorry, I…I just didn't want to keep practicing."

That was a lie. Elsa was horrible at keeping her voice neutral—or at the very least, Anna was talented in reading her reactions. Not so talented in connecting the dots before saying the wrong thing. As Anna realized what Elsa hadn't said, she wanted to stab herself with a fork. Elsa _couldn't_ have kept practicing. How could she, when her hands had been trapped in gloves for the better part of thirteen years?

"O-Oh, that's fine." Anna cleared her throat. "So I was thinking, maybe later today—"

No.

"…Anna?" Elsa said after a minute.

"Never mind!" Anna returned to shoveling food into her mouth, desperate to stifle their conversation. She had been planning a nature outing on horseback. Elsa couldn't ride a horse. Of course she couldn't, when she couldn't even leave the castle. And even if she did, would she have risked killing a horse with her magic? Anna felt her appetite vanish. It was such a strange thought, that _she_ could do things Elsa could not. For so long, Elsa had seemed perfect. She was the best at everything, and yet, now…

Elsa gave her a rigor mortis smile, and that was the end of their conversation.

* * *

It was gorgeous.

"What do you think of this dress?" Anna asked, twirling the dress in question before positioning it at her front. As Elsa considered, Anna gave a wide grin. This was just like old times. Of course, back then, her tastes had been…less than refined. She tried not to think about the ugly dress phase. "Elsa? Isn't it p—"

"Personally, the color is…not to my taste," Elsa said gravely.

That was encouraging, and Anna felt hope bloom in her chest. She tipped her head down and pretended to pout. "Don't be so honest!" Anna moaned.

"…There's no use in lying about an opinion."

It struck her so suddenly that she didn't even know how to react. Anna stared, silent, as Elsa hugged her arms close to her chest. Back then…Elsa would have joked about how ugly the dress was, and then she would have comforted her when Anna pretended to cry. That was how it should be. Not this…severity.

"It was just a joke," Anna said. "I wasn't asking you to lie."

 _Not that lying would be hard for you, would it?_

"Sorry," Elsa said.

"It's fine."

Anna shoved the dress back in her wardrobe.

* * *

It was unfortunate.

"I remembered that you loved this dessert," Elsa said, looking on hopefully as Anna stared at the blueberry-topped cake. "And I just suddenly thought—"

"I do love it," Anna said.

Elsa smiled, and this one was so genuine that Anna considered lying and enduring this for her sake. She _had_ loved blueberries. Her five-year-old self had been convinced that blueberries were the nectar of the gods, that surely, if there were a creator or creators, he or she or they were subsisting on blueberries.

"I can't eat this," Anna said, and her stomach plummeted at the exact instant that the smile dropped off Elsa's face. "Sorry, I just—I actually developed an allergy, I can't eat blueberries anymore."

"...Since when?"

"Elsa—"

"Since when?" Elsa asked again, and there was enough iron in her voice that Anna was reminded of the Elsa that she had seen briefly in the ice castle, enraged at her persistence, surrounded by storm.

"Since I was eight," Anna murmured.

"…I'm sorry."

Elsa left without another word.

* * *

It was tiring.

"I was trying some chocolate from that new store that opened lately, but I'm preeeeetty sure that they skimp or something because the texture is just off, right? It's like, earthier than it should be, kind of like they put ground up chicken into it, and it's just really, really off-putting, you know?"

"That sounds truly disgusting."

"It is! Absolutely unpalatable. It felt like I was eating really sweet dirt."

"Don't you worry, Anna. I'll have soldiers raid the place."

"Free all the chickens! Oh, but you know, there's a nice teashop right next to it, so try to avoid collateral damage. They have the best pastries, too."

Elsa was nodding along at all the right spots, and Anna kept babbling—but her heart was barely in it. She could keep this up all day. She had lots of topics she could talk about, lots of topics that she loved. She could talk about chocolates, bikes, walks around the garden, things she had seen around town now that she had freedom to roam, people she had met while roaming. Elsa would respond appropriately. Elsa would ask the right questions, would say the right things, would express the proper emotions, amazement, shock, happiness, excitement, and Elsa would even _laugh_ , but it was all _wrong._

It took too much effort.

* * *

Sometimes, Anna thought about having a serious conversation with Elsa.

As soon as she started considering finding Elsa, she dismissed the idea. Why disrupt the tentative, not-quite-normal normalcy they had right now? She would just be dredging up bad memories again. It was possible they would find a routine. Soon, they might find the correct balance and go back to the way they had been in their childhood. And besides…

Anna snorted. She could talk to Elsa, but she couldn't trust Elsa. She knew that. It didn't matter what Elsa said. If Anna asked to talk, to work through the awkwardness, that couldn't end well. Of course, Elsa could outright reject her and crush any hope of reconciliation; but Anna knew that, even now, especially now, Elsa cared too much to do something like that. No, Elsa was kind, and that was why it would never work. Elsa would agree to talk, and she would even listen, but—Anna knew herself incapable of trusting what she said. It wasn't Elsa's fault at all. Even if Elsa comforted her and promised something, anything, Anna would doubt those promises. Even if they were sincere, Anna just couldn't bring herself to _trust_.

She'd already been let down before.

* * *

It wasn't as though they didn't get along.

They just didn't get along as well as they used to, didn't get along as effortlessly as they used to, and that constant comparison was ruinous. Anna hated it. She hated that she _had_ something to compare their current relationship to, because maybe she was only imagining just how close they had been, and she was only chasing after a fanciful dream that reality could never match up to. Maybe she was giving up on what she had now for something that had never existed.

But she was sure that it had.

Anna remembered laughing real laughs with Elsa, not having to think about exactly what she said before she said it, not having to calculate the conversation to make sure her responses left room for Elsa to respond in turn. She remembered all the little inside jokes they'd had, the ones that had driven their parents mad. Little pranks they could pull on each other, knowing they were well within boundaries. Little mean comments that were mutually understood as their way of showing affection.

"I don't know how to talk to her anymore," Anna muttered. "I just want it to be like how it was, but I don't know where we stand. And…I'm afraid of finding out."

"Have you tried just being honest?" Kristoff asked.

"I already told you why I can't be!"

"No, you told me your excuses." Kristoff shrugged when Anna glared. "Look, I know it's easy for me to say because I'm not involved, but you should just talk to her honestly. You know what people say about it always being clearer from the outside looking in."

"You also think that hypocrites have the best advice."

"Yeah, because they've actually experienced whatever it is they're talking about," Kristoff said, scoffing like it was common sense. "Seriously, Anna, talk to trolls more often."

"I…guess?"

"Just try," Kristoff said. "Talking to Elsa, I mean, not talking to trolls. You know you'll regret it if you don't talk. Cliché advice, but better to try and fail than to never try, right?"

Anna laughed. "You're right, that is pretty cliché."

Sven snorted too and stretched out on his mattress of straw as Kristoff took out his lute and began to sing. Anna didn't stay for the whole thing. But as she left…

"Thanks, Mr. Love Expert."

* * *

Anna ended up shouting.

She didn't even know how that happened, but the instant she started talking, every worry and frustration had spilled out. About how much she had missed Elsa, how happy she had been that Elsa was safe from Hans, how she had hoped things would be fine now, how awkward they were instead, how hard she was trying to fix everything, how much her efforts were failing.

She talked about how she couldn't trust Elsa, and she had started by saying that it wasn't Elsa's fault at all, only her own incapability to trust, but—Elsa had given her reason not to trust. Elsa had left her alone for years and years, left her to her own misery when their parents had died. It wasn't all Elsa's fault, Anna knew that, she said as much, that Elsa had every logical reason to stay away, that Elsa had ultimately been trying to protect her from herself, but—but—

 _It_

 _still_

 _hurt._

"I'm sorry," Elsa said.

"…I just want things to go back to the way they were," Anna said.

She felt drained. She felt as though she had been keeping herself going on a single, bottled up breath, and she had just expelled it all in a fit of rage and sorrow. She wanted to collapse. And she would have, except Elsa had taken her by the shoulders and embraced her just like she had on that day, the day they had been reunited again. Anna hugged her back with what she knew was most likely crushing force, but Elsa didn't complain. She only held her silently until Anna calmed down.

"I don't think we can go back to how we were," Elsa said.

"But—"

"Just listen," Elsa chided, and Anna quieted. "We've both been trying to pick up where we left off, and…that's not working. I want that more than anything, but it's impossible. We're not kids anymore. We can't go back to how it was because that time doesn't exist anymore, those versions of _us_ don't exist anymore. But that's fine. For me, that's fine. I love you the way you are now, Anna. And…I realize I don't know everything about you now, not the way I used to, but I'm willing to learn. Is that okay?"

Anna swallowed dryly. "That was…oddly eloquent."

"I've had time to draft many iterations of this speech," Elsa said, laughing quietly.

"…Way to make me look like a kid, since I just started screaming."

"Well, thanks for bringing it up. It was brave, Anna. I don't think I would have."

Elsa hadn't denied that she looked like a kid, Anna noticed, and she grinned into her shoulder. Classic Elsa. Being mean even while giving her a compliment.

"I just hope I haven't made things even more weird," Anna muttered.

"It's going to be weird for a while, no doubt, but…I think talks like these are needed now and then," Elsa said. "At least it shows that we both care enough to talk, yes? I wish…I wish I'd talked to Mama and Papa like this, too. Maybe we'd all be together still if I just had the courage."

Anna didn't know what to say to that.

"Now I'm improvising, but…" Elsa drew back and smiled. "We're not as close as we were. That's undeniable. But we weren't _always_ that close. We…had to develop that relationship, too."

Anna nodded. "Y-Yeah. So…I guess we can be closer again. If we give it time."

"Exactly. And we'll always share what we had in the past, too. I cherish those memories, Anna. I never forgot them, not even while I was…on my self-imposed exile."

"W-Well, you better not," Anna said. "I've known you since you were three."

Elsa laughed. "When I was three, you couldn't even crawl. Are you sure you knew me back then? Of course, _I_ knew _you_. You were a very ugly baby, Anna."

Anna pushed Elsa lightly, and Elsa – her sister, her friend – laughed again.

It felt good to hear her laugh, but, Anna realized, the laugh was different from the one she remembered. Deeper, more mature, with more worries underneath, and even now, there was a hint of weariness that was the result of long years of pain and guilt and longing. It was _very_ different.

And that was fine.

* * *

 **Restart**

* * *

 **a/n:** This is going to be a random collection of sequel-related drabbles: character developments that I feel are missing, odd scenarios that I'd like to see, random plot ideas that I have, etc., not necessarily in chronological order (although this one does precede everything else). Obviously everything will be AU once the sequel actually comes out, buuuuut please let me dream! For this particular one...I liked Frozen Fever enough, but I always thought it was too easy how Elsa and Anna seem to have just picked up where they left off. Obviously, real life doesn't work like that. I imagine that there must have been awkwardness, incorrect assumptions, unfulfilled expectations. People can't put their life on pause and then resume it whenever they want to, but I (want to) believe that people can start over as long as they care to, hence this oneshot. To be completely honest, this one's a little personal for me. Hope you liked it!


End file.
